Set it Alight
by Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet
Summary: It is better that one man falls to darkness than an entire Galaxy. It turns out the price of a better future is a certain man's soul. Was it worth it? AKA What if Ventress had actually understood the subtle, if despicable, art of breaking a man? Rated 'M' to be on the safe side-rated for torture and some violence.
1. Chapter 1

_Many people throughout history have somehow come to think that freedom is the ability to choose and not live with undesirable consequences. Freedom, however, is the _right_ to make a choice, not necessarily the right to choose the results of your actions. Wise people choose their actions and words with their consequences in mind. Desperate people do as well, but with blinders on. It is difficult to make a wise choice when any result is undesirable. It is possible to be wise and desperate, but as far as I am concerned, the truly wise would never become desperate. I had hoped I had become wise during my time as a knight. I was wrong._

The worst part about the entire situation was the fact the he knew he could have succeeded in just about any other circumstance. It would have been difficult and he knew that he was breaking, but he could have pulled through if it hadn't been for Anakin. Not that Obi-wan could blame him. No, he knew where to place the blame.

The Jedi Knight didn't know how long he'd been held prisoner by the time Ventress decided to use that Force forsaken mask on him, but he had a will of durasteel and a goal in his mind and he refused to break. He didn't like the pain, but he could handle it, even as it grew worse and worse each day, never quite leaving anymore. The visions the mask brought to him were more difficult to deal with, and they'd begun to wear on him. He wasn't sure how long he could hold out as the despair, guilt, anger and all the hundreds of other negative emotions built, but he was determined to defeat it.

Then everything changed when, an indeterminable amount of time after he'd involuntarily donned the mask, the door opened, allowing a wave of stale air not quite so full of the smell of unwashed bodies and decaying excretions to brush past him. He squashed the longing he had for fresh air and sunlight, once again leaning on his not insubstantial reserve of patience. He'd been working on a way to touch the Force despite the pain the mask brought him every time he tried, but hadn't exactly had the most success. It would still be a while yet before he could escape.

With a resigned sigh, he steeled his mind and will to endure another few hours of torture. The darksider hadn't been able to turn or break him yet, and he had long since resolutely decided that today (that every day) would be no different. He was almost glad she hadn't been trained in interrogation so much as assassination. She didn't understand how to really _break_ someone, she just liked causing pain. He was also grateful that she knew so little about his past. She hadn't been able to reopen old wounds and play on his weaknesses, at least not in anything beyond a general sense.

The mask, being in his mind, did extrapolate on those fears and memories, but he knew they were only in his head and refused to voice the horrible visions aloud. He would ignore images of Qui-gon leaving him on Bandomeer; of Qui-gon and Anakin—master and apprentice—walking away from him, Anakin with a new Padawan braid grinning happily up at his new master, never to speak to Obi-wan again; of the two women he'd loved and could never be with because of his convictions; of his absolute inadequacies in being a master to the Chosen One and hundreds of other scenarios that _could_ have happened. And that was just when Ventress wasn't inflicting more pain in some new, previously inconceivable way.

He braced himself against the visions of killing her slowly that would surely come in the next few hours; of making sure she felt just as much torment as he'd endured. The mask tended to bring those out every time he saw the woman lately. He purposefully turned his thoughts away from those and pushed down the idea of never escaping and being left here to rot because he simply refused to fall. He was a Jedi Knight. He could do this.

Obi-wan took several calming breaths and was just about to look up at his captor when he heard the dull thump of a body falling to the floor, and he opened his previously closed eyes in surprise. Then his blood froze in his veins. The body on the floor was Anakin. The boy was dirty and worn, but he'd recognize his Padawan anywhere.

"No…" he heard himself whisper despite his resolve.

Anakin shouldn't be here! Why was he here?! Anakin was _supposed_ to rescue him or at the very least stay out of harm's way, not get himself captured!

A triumphant cackle had him looking up at Ventress. She'd wizened up somehow and realized she would have to attack one of Obi-wan's weak points—one of his _attachments—_to get to him. He knew he had too many of them, no matter how he tried to fix it; to hide and ignore the knowledge, desperately working to release such feelings to the Force multiple times a day. It had never worked completely, even before the mask, and now he couldn't even do that. It had been all he could do to hold to his convictions before now. And, of all his weaknesses, Anakin was probably the most obvious and the one he was the most deeply attached to, if he were honest with himself.

The mask immediately brought up images of the torture Anakin would go through because Obi-wan had been caught, because he'd been too _weak_ to take what was his, embrace the darkness and gain the power he needed.

He forced the thoughts aside and glared up at Ventress.

"Anakin has nothing to do with this," he said, upset that his voice had been sharper than he'd intended. "Leave him out of it!"

The woman regarded him with a smirk. "No. Now that I have both of you within my grasp, I'll make sure to break him worse than I'll break even you."

Obi-wan felt a surge of panicked anger shoot up like a geyser inside of him and he was about to snap a scathing retort when a groan from his apprentice stopped him.

"Wha…? Where am I?"

"Anakin," Obi-wan croaked in a voice that had been all too used to screaming recently. Anakin blinked and looked up. From the look on his face, he barely recognized what must be nothing but the form of a man with barely enough skin drooping over his skeleton to classify him as 'alive' hanging from the ceiling in what was left of the cloak Ventress had shoved him into so long ago. She hadn't bothered to change the rags since just after he and the clone he'd been captured with had arrived, and the dirty tatters were only marginally better than being completely naked (which she'd subjected him to multiple times as well). He suspected she only put the rough cloth on him at the end of their sessions so as to aggravate his wounds.

Anakin's eyes widened when he realized just who was hanging before him. "M-master?" he asked warily before a relieved grin broke onto his face. "You're alive? I knew it! I told everyone, but no one would believe me."

And that hurt more than he thought it should. No one was even _trying_ to rescue him from this nightmare? They'd just abandoned him to this? He didn't want anyone else to put their lives in danger for him, and yet he had to suppress the resentment that boiled at the thought. He couldn't release it to the Force, but that didn't mean he had to give into the feeling either. No matter how much he wanted to.

"I never gave up on you," Anakin said with a weak smile before glancing angrily over his shoulder at Ventress.

"Aw, isn't that precious," she said in a sickeningly sweet, condescending tone that really only showed her disdain. "Too bad no one will come looking for either of you now." With that she leaned close to Obi-wan and whispered harshly in his ear. "You're mine. Both of you."

Obi-wan tried to quell the growing dread in his gut, but he couldn't. He could only wait and see what would come.

And he hated it.

xXx

She didn't touch Obi-wan during the next two hours, except to tear off the filthy cloak from his back, thus opening all of his scabs again. After that, she had Anakin hung up across the rather small room in a similar style to Obi-wan, stripped and tortured.

Every slash and punch they made towards the boy tore at Obi-wan's heart. It would have practically killed him without the mask, but with the mask on…. He quickly reassessed Ventress' ability for torture. Either she did know more about it than she had let on, or she learned quickly. Hurting Anakin got to Obi-wan far more than anything she ever could have done to him.

If she had tortured anyone else he would have felt horrible about watching what they endured, but it was a hundred times worse with his Padawan. And that brought out his shame. He shouldn't think like that. Jedi—real Jedi—didn't think like that.

Despite the burns inflicted on Anakin by her lightsabers along with the punches and the beatings they seemed to enjoy, Anakin didn't so much as whimper. He only glared (with a little too much anger and hate in Obi-wan's opinion, but he was still proud of his Padawan for enduring it) at them.

Then, on Ventress' command and with little warning, they simply left both of the Jedi hanging there and sauntered out the door, the Sith Acolyte whispering a promise that she would return to continue her tender administrations soon enough. It bothered Obi-wan more deeply than he cared to admit that he felt a far greater relief when the door finally closed than he normally did.

Anakin wasn't in the state of mind to talk much for a while after the relative darkness had returned, leaving only some very dim light for Obi-wan to see Anakin by. He wished he could help his apprentice, and seeing Anakin that dazed (probably from a concussion) worried him greatly, but the only thing he could do was keep talking…and that hurt his scratchy, raw throat that probably hadn't really healed from his own awful sessions in the past months.

Despite this, he kept up a constant litany, probing Anakin to respond as often as he could and usually only getting a vague grunt in recognition. Still, Obi-wan would take that over nothing.

When Anakin finally seemed to wake up enough that he could talk to Obi-wan, his words weren't nearly as composed as usual…which said quite a bit. 'Composed' wasn't the word most beings who knew the Padawan would use to describe him and the fact that he wasn't even trying to put up a front that approached his usual, cocky standard had the older Jedi holding his breath just to hear the younger one breathe.

"So glad you're 'live, Master," he managed to slur out. "I 'as so scared. Thought you left me, like Mom did."

Obi-wan flinched at that for two reasons. Anakin was never this straight forward with his feelings and that did not bode well for the boy's state of mind. Also, Obi-wan still felt a great deal of guilt for not putting more stock in Anakin's reoccurring dreams. He hadn't been happy that Anakin had gone to Tatooine, and it hadn't been too difficult to figure out why he'd gone. After Obi-wan had confronted Anakin, the boy had finally snapped and yelled that it was Obi-wan's fault his Mother was dead. If he'd been allowed to go earlier, he could have saved her.

The mask, of course, pounced on that with a vengeance, driving his guilt through the roof. It took a great deal of effort to focus on his Padawan again.

"I'm so sorry, Anakin. I never wanted to leave you."

The young man smiled then, a sort of dopey, half-delirious smile. "I know, Master. Mom didn't either, I don't think. She didn' look 's bad as you though…. It's really you, right? You're really here, aren't you Master?"

Obi-wan sighed. "Yes, Anakin, I'm really here."

"This in't a dream?"

"No, Anakin."

He cocked his head to the side, an effort that hurt judging from his wince. "You sure?"

"Are you in pain, Anakin?"

The boy seemed to think about that for a moment before he nodded his head. Obi-wan suppressed the surge of anger at that and spoke as calmly as he could manage.

"Well then you can't be dreaming."

"It could be a vision though."

That didn't bode well. "Anakin," Obi-wan started slowly, "do your visions hurt you?"

Anakin moved in such a way that suggested he'd tried to shrug and failed with his arms chained up as they were. "Sometimes."

A niggling, sick feeling started in Obi-wan's stomach. As far as he knew only visions from the Dark Side of the Force hurt. Why would Anakin be getting visions from the Dark Side?

Well, he doubted anything he said right now would get through to the boy so he filed that away for later. Then he focused on his Padawan again. Just having someone else there to focus on was helping him immensely. He could almost ignore the terrible visions the mask brought him.

And yet, they somehow seemed worse too, more personal and focusing on little things that he'd never realized he'd had a problem with…or big things he'd thought he could control.

"I'm so sorry, Anakin.," he finally said again, giving up all pretense of his normal reaction to his Padawan's pain. Usually he would stand strong and try to show his charge what a true Jedi should do…but he didn't feel like a Jedi right now, not with the thoughts he'd been having and not with how he'd felt recently, even before the blasted torture device covering his face. But right now, when Anakin probably wouldn't even remember, when he felt so low and broken and beaten, he just didn't have the will to say anything but what he truly felt. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry I'm not an adequate mentor and I'm sorry that I'm the only one who would train you. You deserve better."

"What're you talkin' 'bout?" Anakin asked, eyes confused from what Obi-wan could see of him. "You're the best, Master."

"If I was the best, we wouldn't be in this position right now," Obi-wan returned tiredly. "If I were the Jedi I was supposed to be…" Qui-gon would have lived to train Anakin and the boy would have had a proper Master, not some up-start, tainted Padawan who really wasn't ready to be a Knight, let alone take an apprentice.

"I don' want 'nother master. They tried to give me one. It was stupid. I hated it 'cause he wa'n't you." Anakin said, far more bluntly than usual.

"Oh, Anakin," Obi-wan said, both grateful and sad. "Please don't do that to yourself."

The Padawan frowned. "Do what?"

"Hate. Especially not here. It will eat you alive and you won't come out the same as when you entered." Obi-wan knew he wouldn't. Would he ever be able to view himself as clean or worthy again? He doubted it. "It's almost destroyed me."

Anakin frowned. "You never hate anything, Master."

Obi-wan felt his shame grow at that. "Oh, I do. I hate what Ventress is doing and I hate this planet and I hate being here and I hate the state we're in and I hate the situation…" Okay, that was a little more than he had wanted to say. It was more than he realized he'd wanted to say. Still, he took a calm breath and did his best to ignore the encouragement of the Mask. But the last thing on his mind slipped out before he could stop it.

"And I hate her."

Anakin looked confused again. "No, you don't, Master. You can't hate. You're a perfect Jedi."

Obi-wan snorted derisively. "If you think I am a perfect Jedi, then I have obviously not taught you well enough. You should look up to Jedi like Master Yoda and Master Mundi and Master Windu. I am a prime example of what a Jedi should not be."

The confusion still remained and more than a little worry had crept into the expression. "You're…not perfect Jedi?"

The mask suddenly seemed to bring up every single thing he had ever despised about himself in a second. Every flaw and every mistake flashed through his mind in an instant. He saw everything a true Jedi would never have done. "No, Anakin, I'm not. Far from it. Very far from it."

"But…you always follow the code."

Obi-wan snorted again. "If I always followed the code, I wouldn't have taken you on as a Padawan. If I always followed the code, I wouldn't argue against the Council's decisions. I wouldn't have fallen in love—twice, I might add—and I wouldn't…I wouldn't care about you the way I do." He turned his eyes up to bore into Anakin's, even through the darkness. "Please, don't be a Jedi like me. Be a true Jedi, Anakin."

The boy just stared at him in open shock. Then he opened his mouth and closed it. Then he scrunched his face up as if he were thinking hard and having difficulty doing so.

"You…fell in love?"

Obi-wan sighed. Of all the things for Anakin to latch onto it had to be that? Still, he felt relieved to have it out in the open, but at the same time, the shame and embarrassment and guilt…it was smothering, and the mask was working overtime to drive every single emotion deeper into his already fragile soul.

"To my shame, yes."

Anakin frowned. "It's not shameful."

"It is for a Jedi."

After that, Anakin seemed to think for a moment. "Maybe I'm no' cu' out to be a Jedi."

Obi-wan felt his insides grow cold and he looked up in shock at Anakin.

"Anakin, don't say that!"

"Why not? Jedi can' love? Tha's poodoo. I want to love. Is that so bad?"

He wanted to say yes and argue and bring up the points he already had so many times before, but he just felt so tired, like his soul sported a weariness that would never dissipate.

"I don't know, anymore, Anakin." Then he changed the subject. "I think I am going to try and get some sleep. I suggest you do the same."

Anakin seemed to watch him for a few moments. "Okay then, Master," he finally said. Obi-wan sighed and tried to urge his body into rest with success born of days—weeks—of doing so in this position. He hoped Anakin would be alright. He'd been awake for what felt like hours now, so surely it wouldn't be dangerous to let him sleep with that concussion. Obi-wan hoped so, because at the moment, he wasn't sure he could stay awake to watch him.

xXx

Ventress came seven times after that before she got impatient. At first her routine varied little. She and her muscle man, Adius, would come in, beat Anakin, burn him with lightsabers, leave him bruised and breathing hard all while taunting the older Jedi. Then the darksider got particularly angry at Obi-wan's seemingly endless tolerance.

That was the day Anakin screamed for the first time. That was also the day they broke his legs and left him to dangle where both appendages would scrape the ground and aggravate the wounds. Ventress' cackles and the guard's chuckling did nothing to drown out the sharp crack of bone breaking as they used the large hammer they'd brought. After that, Anakin refused to do more than whimper until his body had finally taken enough and he'd fallen into what Obi-wan hoped was a blissful unconsciousness.

"What a pity," Ventress said as she regarded Anakin's limp form. Then she seemed to shrug and turned to Obi-wan. "Can you see how selfish you are? You're leaving your Padawan to suffer simply because you refuse to swallow your pride and submit to me."

"After which point you'll kill us both," Obi-wan said, his voice colder than he would have thought possible.

At that, the witch just laughed and put a hand almost lovingly on Obi-wan's cheek. "Right now, wouldn't that be a mercy? And isn't that what you Jedi preach? Mercy and hope and faith…and where has it gotten you? Just admit it, Obi-wan. Admit that I am superior and bow to me, and I will end your suffering."

And for just a moment, he considered it. And it galled him to no end that he did. He refused to open his mouth, though. He'd gone beyond seething what felt like forever ago. Now he had snapped into a sort of uncaring (vindictive even) iciness that kept his head clear despite the rage and guilt that had driven him to this point. His mind registered this strange, new state, and he knew that knowing he could reach such a condition at any other time in his life would downright scare him, but at the moment he could only seem to focus on the Sith witch in front of him and Anakin's broken form. In addition to the two broken legs dragging on the floor they had left him with several broken fingers, a multitude of bruises and sluggishly bleeding cuts on various places all over his body. They hadn't bothered to clothe him again since the first day.

Seeing his Padawan like that finally pushed Obi-wan further than he'd realized was possible. He thought he'd hated before. He'd had no idea, because what he felt now went so far beyond hate that he didn't even know if there was a true classification for his complete and utter loathing.

"You do know, this is all your fault, Obi-wan," Ventress reiterated with mock admonition. "I wouldn't have even gone after your precious Padawan if you had simply acknowledged the truth—that I am superior to you, although taking him away from the war was probably a blessing after the Republic's horrible defeat at Jabiim. After all, everyone else died."

Obi-wan felt as if she'd socked him in the gut and guilt shot through the cold numbness that had blanketed his mind, soaring ever higher, despite his best efforts not to give into her taunts. Jabiim had been lost, and so many lives with it, although his still strangely clear mind brought up the idea that she could very well be lying, no matter how honest she'd sounded, but that didn't change the fact that he _should_ have been there!

His mental shields had already taken more of a beating in the last two weeks (or however long it had been since Anakin had come) than it had in the last two months of torture, and the mask immediately jumped on her words to continue to pound at the shattered remains of his defenses.

Suddenly, as if she'd driven a spike into his very soul, the words hit home. If he'd been more aware during the battle where Ventress had captured him…he'd been too focused on rescuing _everyone_, and he hadn't been paying attention as he, both a General and a Jedi, should have. If he'd been a little more vigilant, a little more intent on _winning_ the battle as he should have…but wasn't it presumptuous to think that his presence could have made a huge difference? And yet, his mind nagged at him that at least he may have been able to save more people if he'd just been there...he _should_ have been slogging through the rain-soaked mud and leading his clone troops into battle instead of here in Ventress' tender care.

Every single life lost on that planet fell onto his shoulders joining the weight of Anakin's pain and he felt as if his entire spirit would simply crumble under it. He couldn't seem to breathe and it felt strange that his mind was still analyzing all of this with a cold, truthful accuracy that didn't seem to associate with the rest of him. So much responsibility, so many lives; it almost felt as if the weight on his spirit was spilling over, leaking into his physical form because it had nowhere else to go. Visions of Anakin screaming in pain played over and over in his head, and he realized how much he truly despised her—this evil witch.

He hated her almost as much as he hated himself. And the mask wouldn't let him forget it. He tried to banish the realization with the knowledge that she was doing this because she herself was in pain, but it didn't help nearly as much as it had before.

She'd chosen this path. No matter what her past was, she had chosen to turn into…_this._

"Have a pleasant rest remembering everything you've failed at tonight," she said as she closed the door, cutting off most of the light yet again.

Obi-wan focused as hard as he could. He was eventually able to banish the pain and anger, even with the mask on, and he did it out of sheer will, but he could not touch the guilt, no matter how hard he tried. After all, there was no arguing with truth.

xXx

Anakin woke with a sharp intake of breath a few hours later (at least Obi-wan thought it might have been a few hours, it was difficult to tell time in this place), but despite the obvious agony, he still managed to lock gazes with his master, eyes bright with pain and fever as he said through clenched teeth:

"Don't give her what she wants."

Obi-wan couldn't answer him. He could only look on with pity and shame. It took far too long for the Jedi Knight to force himself to talk to Anakin, and once he did he focused on trying to distract the boy from the anguish, no matter how it tore at the older man's dry, swollen vocal chords to do so. It didn't help much and Anakin seemed to be a little too out of it to really think normally and respond. Thankfully, the boy passed out again not too much later, leaving Obi-wan alone again.

He watched his Padawan in the dim light he suspected Ventress had left on just so he could see the evidence of what they'd done to the person who meant the most to him, and he knew he couldn't let it happen again. He couldn't watch the boy he considered his brother—his son—in pain. Next time they might do something irreparable…and it was his fault, well, his and Ventress'. Perhaps he could also assign some blame to Dooku and his Sith Master for starting this useless war to begin with as well, but most of Anakin's pain had come into being because of his Jedi Master and the Sith Acolyte who had captured them.

It wasn't Anakin's fault. He shouldn't be here, and Obi-wan realized that he would do _anything_ to get him away from here. Now.

As he had done an innumerable amount of times before, he tried to grasp at the Force, but the pain that lanced through his head refused to allow him access. He felt the last of his control slipping as his frustration grew. Jedi strived for a mastery of self, and he had worked so hard to accomplish that very goal, but the shame for what had happened, for his failures and his shortcomings, seemed to stomp out all of his hard-earned mastery.

_You could escape, if you took what is yours, what _belongs_ to you_, the mask seemed to whisper. _You could take your Padawan, your_ son,_ and leave this place. _

And he could. The idea of what he was contemplating made him sick, but it would only be this once. Just this once. And he would do it for Anakin because it was the _only way_.

"I'm sorry, Anakin," was all he could whisper. Then he took a deep breath and felt a single tear leak from his eye. He was surprised he had enough water in his body to allow that; his final tribute to the light he held so dear.

And then he stopped fighting the darkness.

xXx

He was surprised at how easily the twisted coldness came to him, still only in trickles because of the mask, but it was there none the less…and it felt _good. _Not the healing, warm goodness of the normal Force, but this coldness gave him something he couldn't have had just moments before, a power that made him feel as if he could do anything.

He had to draw on that power through the shame and guilt, had to practically order it to follow his wishes, but it seemed to want to eagerly comply once he demanded, and the negative emotions that had built inside of him recently only helped him to draw on that power.

His first thought went along the lines of, '_This isn't so bad_.' He'd been expecting himself to somehow change irreparably the moment he touched the darkness, but he didn't really feel any different, only stronger.

Still, he knew enough to be wary of such thoughts. He'd seen the damage the Dark Side could do, and he may feel he had no other choice at this point, but that didn't mean it would be a permanent thing. He already felt ashamed of his decision, which in turn fed the darkness, the cold fire that would allow him to get Anakin away from this nightmare.

The manacles that held him were Force resistant, but the link of the chains on the ceiling weren't. They came down with far more effort than he would have liked, but the awful restrictions that had held him up for so long still clattered loudly to the floor. He fell into the pile of his own waste that the guards hadn't so much as bothered to clean in weeks and immediately slumped shakily to the ground.

The weakness in his body frustrated him, building his connection to the darkness even more and he shuddered. It may not have been so bad, but he still felt tainted and unworthy somehow. He'd drawn on the Dark Side, so he was no longer a Jedi, but he could live with that if it meant getting Anakin away and healed.

He finally forced his hand to move and ripped the mask from his head, reveling in the small amount of freedom that brought him. The Force flowed around him and he sighed in relief at the feeling. Then he turned his focus on Anakin and had tore at the chains on the ceiling. He was horrified to realize that the power reacting to his call of the Force had not gone back to the normal warmth, but no matter how he focused, no matter how he tried to calm himself, the fleeting tendrils of light would not answer his call. He hesitated for only a moment, then realized that he would probably need all the strength he could get anyway, and the darkness filled him in a way nothing else could—he felt he could do _anything_.

Which was good because he still had to get Anakin down.

He went to tear the chains down again, but paused again as a thought occurred to him. If they were to escape, he couldn't just rush into this. Anakin was in pain. Anakin needed his help and that filled him with more guilt and anger. What she'd done to Obi-wan was one thing, something he could hate and despise but live with. What she'd done to Anakin was unforgivable. He would _not_ let her do it again.

Which meant he had to come up with a plan. It would have worked out better if he'd been able to hide his Force presence right away, but he'd been unable to do so immediately after the mask had come off. She had to know something was up, despite the fact that he'd only allowed that flare in the force for a fraction of a second. He'd hidden his presence as best he could as quickly as he could, but she would come anyway. He could already sense Ventress' dark (although not as dark as it had seemed before, but he refused to dwell on that implication, if only for his own sanity) presence coming towards them. If he could just draw her attention away for a few seconds…

Analytically he studied the situation, taking a mental step back and looking over the predicament as a whole. Ventress had undoubtedly felt his presence and would be here shortly. In his state right now, no matter how he felt about it, he really couldn't expect to put up a decent fight. He might be able to hold her off for a few minutes, but that would do him little good. He'd have to take her by surprise and end things quickly.

Fortunately, he had two weapons in the form of chains strapped to the manacles around his wrist. They wouldn't do much against a lightsaber, and truthfully he could barely lift them without help from the Force, but if he could get the jump on his captor, maybe he could somehow get one or both of her lightsabers. At least then they'd have a fighting chance.

He glanced around the room again, figuring where he could attack from that would give him the most chance of success. If he could lure her into the room, even if she was on alert, it would do a lot to even the odds.

So what could he use as a distraction?

And then a thought came to him. He glanced over at Anakin's limp body, checking through the Force to make sure he was still unconscious. Yes, this would work, and Anakin shouldn't remember any of it.

He ignored how muddled his thoughts suddenly felt, pushed aside the horror in his soul at the very idea he was contemplating, and stuck to the facts as best he could. Then he tore Anakin's chains from the ceiling with the Force. He couldn't do much to physically catch the boy as he fell, but was able to stop him from collapsing completely with the Force. From the strange angle of his Padawan's legs, it couldn't be comfortable.

He concentrated and lifted Anakin higher, moved him and the chain through the Force—a little more violently than he would have liked, but it got the job done—to the spot Obi-wan had been hanging from not minutes before and secured the chains above as best he could.

Then he forced himself to his feet, struggled out of the harsh cloak, ignoring the pain from his scabs being torn open yet again, and placed it over Anakin's head. Then he reached down to where he'd thrown the accursed mask and picked it up. He looked at the thick, dirty material in his hands for a few moments, fingers brushing over the thing with disgust. Then he turned to Anakin.

"I'm so sorry, Anakin," he whispered, and then shoved the mask onto his Padawan's head. He'd be able to get it off again soon, after all. As long as Anakin wasn't awake…Obi-wan just hoped that it didn't affect Anakin's dreams like it had affected his. He ignored the increase of guilt. After all, this would help them both in the long run.

Fortunately, Anakin didn't respond to the mask, and Obi-wan breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know if he could forgive himself if Anakin were to suffer as he had. He already couldn't forgive himself as it was.

That brought up the deep rage that burned so cold inside of him and he clenched his own disfigured hands angrily. Fortunately, it only made him feel more powerful, more like he could actually do what he had planned.

He walked to where Anakin had hung previously and levered himself onto the filthy floor. Now all he had to do was wait.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Evil wins when good people do nothing to stop it". I have witnessed the truth of this statement. I have also witnessed the truth of the statement that "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions". I believe my Padawan has always had problems finding a happy medium between these two truths. I myself have had problems with them. After all, if one acts with the intent to stop evil but ends up dooming themselves and thus everyone they were trying to save, then one is living both statements. The solution is to act when you need to and to do so with a clear head and a larger picture in mind. It can be difficult to do so, but that was the conclusion I came to. I learned that lesson through witnessing the results of my rash actions far too many times in my life. _

_I have never come across a situation where that general rule of acting with patience and wisdom does not apply. When I became a Knight, I vowed to never act rashly again and I have tried to live up to that to this day. _

_Some lessons, it seems, are never really learned. _

It wasn't long (and yet it seemed like forever now that he could move again) before he heard Ventress' voice outside the door.

"Open it. Quickly!"

Obi-wan tensed, ignoring the shooting pains in his protesting, abused muscles. It took all too long for the door to swing open, and he found himself torn between a sort of giddy anticipation that was very much not like him and a solemn, grim determination that was.

Finally Ventress rushed in, not even sparing a look for the corner he crouched in, her eyes fixed solidly on Anakin's limp form. It would have been the perfect opportunity to attack if he didn't know she would have back up in the form of Adius, a cruel, spiteful man who liked causing pain almost more than she did. If Obi-wan wanted to fight Ventress on even footing then her muscled backup would have to be taken out first.

The man, a stocky, heavy-set humanoid with thin, dark hair sprouting out of his head in a greasy mess, stepped in only moments after his mistress and Obi-wan struck. He whipped his hand out and the chain wrapped firmly around the thick neck. He used every ounce of strength to yank the other man towards himself, putting some Force-enhancement behind the pull while simultaneously pushing the large body away from him with the Force.

The loud crack that rang throughout the room was far too satisfying. Ventress' surprised shout as the now dead man ran into her with some force even more so. However, the two simultaneous moves strained him more than he cared to admit and he knew he would have to be careful for the next few minutes if he wanted to survive. Reaching out, he pulled one of Ventress' lightsabers toward him. He tried for both but couldn't find the control he needed in his current state. He would have to end this quickly because he just didn't have the stamina to use his normal, patient and defensive Soresu.

Ventress and Adius stumbled into Anakin, eliciting a pained groan from him. Obi-wan refused to allow himself to wince at the noise, hoping he hadn't woken and choosing instead to focus on freeing his wrist from the shackles before the woman managed to regain her balance. He succeeded, although just barely because Ventress wasn't off guard for long.

With an angry cry and a flexibility that Obi-wan couldn't help but envy just a little, she flipped out of the way before she and Adius's body hit the ground. With a cry of rage, she came hurtling towards Obi-wan, who sidestepped her onslaught, knowing he couldn't meet it outright in the state his body was in. She whipped around before he could strike at the opening she'd given, bringing her saber up before she'd even managed to face him and parrying the blow he'd aimed at her back.

Then she faced him and returned the blow. He managed to fend her off and they broke apart, each watching the other warily and Obi-wan making sure he was between her and Anakin.

After a few moments, she calmed down enough to realize what had happened, taking in the site with new eyes. She blinked and glanced at her dead underling laying sprawled on the floor.

"Striking from behind? I'm impressed, Obi-wan. How utterly low of you."

Obi-wan grit his teeth but didn't answer.

After a moment of studying him, Ventress threw her head back and laughed, although she never lowered her guard and Obi-wan didn't dare attack anyway. After a few moments, during which time Obi-wan could only really tighten his grip around the lightsaber hilt, she stopped and grinned cruelly back at him.

"So, the great Jedi Obi-wan Kenobi has a breaking point after all," she said with no small amount of triumph. "How does it feel? Empowering, isn't it? Intoxicating and wonderful."

Obi-wan grit his teeth, refusing to acknowledge her and hating the truth in her words, despising the idea that anything about her would be something he could relate to. He still didn't answer, and that seemed to get to her because her smile dimmed quite a bit.

"Still too good to answer me?" she asked, her tone warning.

Obi-wan refused to move, even as she took a testing step forward.

"You'll regret that!" she growled as she lunged forward and thrust her saber out. Obi-wan parried as best he could, misdirecting her strikes, upset to see she was driving him back towards Anakin. He managed to lead her off to the side, ducking and dodging most of the time, but meeting blows where he could.

"How do I know you'll regret looking down on me?" she hissed as he met her blade and mentally begged his weakened muscles to not give in, throwing as much power behind the strokes as he possibly could. "Because I will take it out of your Padawan."

Before he could react, she'd disengaged and rushed towards Anakin, saber held high. Obi-wan felt a rush of panicked desperation.

"NO!" he yelled, thrusting out his hand and calling the Force to him. He had to stop her! Had to save Anakin! She flew past Anakin with a surprised yell and hit the wall of the chamber with a sickening thud that would have bothered him just the day before. It didn't now, and he hated that it _should_ still get to him. He hated that she'd driven him to this point; that she would do this to him! And he loathed that she would drag Anakin into this just to get to him!

He didn't release his hold on her, face twisted into a snarl as he advanced towards her, hand still outstretched. She would recover quickly enough, but while she was stronger in body, he was stronger in the Force. Yes, she'd been able to block him earlier, but she would have never had the opportunity if it had been any other situation. He would have to be out for the count before she could do that to him again, and he wasn't about to faint any time soon.

She could still retaliate with the Force, though, so he would have to end it now. He switched his hold from her torso to her neck almost without thought. Then he turned her around, he wanted to see her eyes as she died. He wanted—_needed—_to know this nightmare was over and that she wouldn't be a threat to him or Anakin ever again.

She had to die.

Her hands automatically went to her throat and Obi-wan squeezed tighter.

Then her eyes met his. "I…still…win," she managed to gasp out.

Obi-wan refused to listen to this…_thing_ any longer. He closed his fist and felt the snap through the Force. The intoxicating rush of power and the relief and pride in knowing that he'd managed to defeat her, even in this state left him gasping for breath even harder than he otherwise would have. For a moment he continued his hold on her, strangely unwilling to let go of that power. After a moment, though, he allowed her body to slump to the floor and stood over her, still glaring in hate.

"And I will survive," he said.

It took a few minutes for it to sink in. It was over. He was free to walk out of this nightmare with his Padawan…except he couldn't carry him and Anakin couldn't walk on his own with two broken legs. He'd have to find a solution to that…and now he was free to do so.

He simply stood there in a daze as his mind couldn't seem to process the thought that he wasn't being held captive anymore. He'd killed his captor—his tormentor…Anakin's torturer.

He looked down at the two bodies lying on the dirty floor and blinked.

"I can never go back," he said with sudden realization. "I thought I could use it…just once…how could I have been such a fool?"

He could feel the darkness saturating his soul. It was there…and it was all he had now.

He stood there for only a few seconds longer, forcing himself to come to terms with the consequences of the choice he'd made. He'd fallen to the Dark Side, but he'd had his reasons…and surprisingly, he could live with that.

Some part of him, he suspected, was recoiling in horror and despair at these turn of events, but the rest of him—an ingrained portion of his personality—recognized that his life had changed, that there was little he could do about it and that he still had things he had to do.

This was his life now, and he'd chosen it. It was more complicated than that, he knew, but for now he refocused on the situation and on what he had to do. He had to escape and that trumped everything else at the moment.

Face blank of emotion, he finally left, simply turned and walked out of the cell, leaving three bodies, only one of them living, in his wake.

xXx

He wasn't by any means steady on his feet, but he maneuvered along the dark halls with a purposeful expression. With his goal in mind, he cautiously reached out with the Force, not sure how to direct this new power. To his left a sort of pulse caused him to pause. He needed to go that direction. There was something there, in the cell just ahead, he couldn't quite tell… Igniting the lightsaber in his hands—what a disdainful weapon, the crystal was not at all combatable with him and he only used it because he had no other option at the moment—he slashed at the durosteel door and pushed it open with the Force as it would be far too heavy for his weakened body.

The beings inside scurried to the back of the cell, straining to get away from the door with a haste born of obvious experience. Obi-wan scrutinized them with a calculating eye. So that tug—those disturbances—had been people. How strange. They hadn't changed, and yet it felt so different. How interesting.

Of the prisoners, none looked to be what he needed at the moment.

"W-who are you?" one of the beings, a human by the looks of him, found the courage to ask.

"Ventress is dead," was all Obi-wan could deign to say. It was the first time he'd said it aloud, and he couldn't help but take a deep, satisfied breath. Then he turned from the room and continued to the next cell.

"W…what should we do?" another voice from behind him asked. Obi-wan paused and managed to turn enough to look at a second being, a torgruta from the looks of it, that had exited the cell. He couldn't identify the gender of the being through the filth covering it.

"Whatever you wish," Obi-wan said as if it were obvious (which, really, it should have been). "So long as you do not obstruct me."

With that said, he moved on to the next cell and slashed the door open. He was in luck. One of the beings in here seemed far healthier than the others. They probably hadn't been there long, and if he were correct, it was a besalisk.

"You," he said to the being. "Follow me."

Not waiting for a reply, he turned to leave the cell.

"You're not the warden and you're not the witch in charge, so why should I listen to you?" the contemptuous voice from behind him stopped him in his tracks. He turned slowly, allowing his glare to settle on the being as he quickly processed the options at his disposal that would allow him deal with the being while still rendering him useful.

"Indeed I am not," he said simply. "However, I am the man who killed them." The being scoffed and he felt an impatience he hadn't had a problem with since he'd been an initiate rise inside of him. He did not have time for these trivial annoyances. That thought, in its own way, settled his inner dispute and decided his course of action.

He raised his hand and the besalisk smashed into the wall behind him.

"And you will join them if you do not do as I say," he continued coldly, stating the words as if they were a simple fact and nothing more.

The being managed to nod and Obi-wan dropped him. "Good."

Turning again, he maneuvered out the door as firmly as he could manage. Fortunately the besalisk wasn't stupid enough to try and attack Obi-wan from behind and the former Jedi led the larger being down the hall. The beings from the previous cell were nowhere to be seen. He only noted that with a passing thought, grateful that no one would impede him.

Obi-wan had the strange idea that he should be feeling more than desperation, a residual anger and satisfaction (and the guilt, _always_ the guilt), but nothing else seemed to want to come to him. He wasn't sure if the negative emotions were burying everything else or if, by just touching the Dark Side, he no longer had any capacity for feeling anything good or positive—other than the tainted satisfaction.

_Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. _

It was something he would have to examine in detail later, once he got off this repulsive planet.

They made it back to Obi-wan's former cell and he felt the disgust and anger at what had happened there surge through him. With a growl he wasn't even aware he'd voiced, he shoved his hand out. The door flew off of its hinges and hit the wall inside the cell. He made sure it never touched Anakin.

"Didn't realize you Jedi could be so vio—" the besalisk cut off as Obi-wan raised an arm, not even bothering to try and look back. Two of the being's hands shot to his throat while the others flailed about in a panic.

"Do not voice your inane thoughts," he said, then added as if in an after thought. "And I am no Jedi." Not anymore. And he would examine exactly how he felt about that at a later date as well. Right now he had to get himself and Anakin out of here.

He managed to seem rather firm somehow as he walked through the destroyed doorway and froze at the sight of Anakin. How could he have forgotten that mask?! Angrily, he rushed forward and practically tore the thing from the boy's head. Then he turned on that awful lightsaber and slashed the torture device in two.

"Mas'er?" Anakin asked, his voice a blur of pain.

Obi-wan felt himself soften at the word. "It's me, Anakin. We're getting out of here."

And to his surprise, a small smile flitted across the younger Jedi's face. "'Bout time."

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Obi-wan felt a flash of his old self; felt a twinge of the amused, wise, senior Knight with a somewhat average Jedi background. It surprised him as to how much even just that fleeting moment of familiar camaraderie helped him relax and caused the darkness to draw away ever so slightly.

"You have my apologies for taking so long."

Anakin snorted. "Knew you'd get us outta here 'ventually."

His Padawan's faith in him touched him, causing a genuine smile to brush across his own lips. It felt foreign but welcome.

And then it was over. The darkness rushed back in as Obi-wan turned to the besalisk. "I will cut him down. You will catch him, _gently_. Every injury he receives because of your carelessness I will repay twofold."

He didn't see the frown on Anakin's face as he was too focused on his reluctant helper.

"Fine, whatever," the reptilian creature muttered and walked forward, carefully stepping in the least dirty places on the floor. It was an exercise in futility that Obi-wan found he had little patience for.

"Today would be nice," he commented in a tone that most would call neutral, but anyone who knew him would note the undertone of a steel warning.

"Wa's wrong, mas'er?" Anakin slurred.

Obi-wan immediately turned to his Padawan, his face softening. "What do you mean, Anakin?"

The boy frowned. "You soun' different. You…feel different."

Obi-wan wasn't sure what to classify the stab of emotion he felt at that. It had had a rather large amount of guilt, but very little (if any) remorse. If any fear had found its way into the mix, it would be at the idea of Anakin somehow rejecting him, not at the idea that he had changed (which he would have expected). He felt other emotions in that stab as well, but couldn't afford to waste time on analyzing it at the moment as the besalisk had reached Anakin and taken him slowly into his rather large arms. Anakin hissed in pain at the movement, and Obi-wan had to restrain himself from taking off the creature's head. He still needed the being to carry Anakin, and from the worried looks he kept shooting Obi-wan, the besalisk was trying not to cause pain.

Forcing himself to be calm, he flipped the lightsaber on and cut off his Padawan's shackles. For a moment all he wanted to do was sag in relief. They were free, both of them, and they were leaving. The moment lasted for only a second, and then he steeled himself to walk out the door and away from his nightmarish prison for the last time, the besalisk carrying Anakin hurrying behind him.

xXx

Just wandering around the compound and following the hints and tugs through the Force allowed him to find his own lightsaber and about a dozen others as well. They also found a cloak for Obi-wan, something clean that covered his back and gave him some protection from the cool air, but he didn't dare to stop for anything else. He just wanted off the planet, and if continuing on in his nakedness would do so faster, then so be it.

Somewhere along the way, they also came across a statue of a man Obi-wan suspected had meant a lot to Ventress. If he had been in better shape, he would have left the thing as rubble. As it was, he just pushed it down with the Force and left it broken and toppled.

The darkness opened him to sensing other's feelings more deeply—well, the negative ones in any case—and he felt the besalisk's fear of him rise as he moved from the room. Good. It would just mean the being would follow his orders more exactly and be that much more careful with Anakin, who had thankfully passed out again.

By the time they found a ship Obi-wan was having a hard time hiding his exhaustion, standing through sheer will and the Force alone. His body ached in ways he didn't think were possible and all he really just wanted was to lie down and sleep for the next standard month. Despite his best efforts, his tired mind wondered if he _could_ sleep lying down at this point. He was so used to resting upright and hanging. Even now it hurt to even drop his hands to his sides because they had been shackled above his head for who knew how long and…when had he closed his eyes?

No, focus! He had to get Anakin out of here! Growling low in his throat he angrily berated himself and managed to get onto the ramp of the ship the Force had led him to. The door to the bay on the far side of the large room wasn't open, but he found that taking care of that with the Force was nothing if not a simple matter. Fortunately, as far as he could tell, there was no force field to keep them in, just the standard, one-way deflectors that kept unwanted guests and objects out.

He nodded in satisfaction and turned to the ship again. It wasn't anything that would stick in anyone's mind, a fairly small vehicle with nothing discernable on it at first glance. To just about anyone, it would simply look like a small freighter. They couldn't know that it was stocked with illegal guns and maneuvering capabilities, at least at Obi-wan's best guess. It wasn't Ventress' usual ship, but he doubted the woman would have had anything that wasn't top-of-the-line when it came to attack and maneuverability in her fleet.

He continued and forced himself up the ramp towards the top where the besalisk holding a still unconscious Anakin watched with a sort of fascinated wariness. He was undoubtedly impressed with Obi-wan's manipulation of the door to the bay, but the former Jedi found he really didn't care.

"In a ship that size, there should be at least one room," Obi-wan said almost conversationally. Really he only wanted to remind the being that he had duties to attend to if he wanted to stay alive. The fact that he had stopped and stared instead of taking Anakin somewhere to rest caused another shot of annoyance to flare through the bearded man but he, again, forced himself to ignore it. "Find it and place Anakin on the bed."

"Y-yeah, sure. Whatever you say," the being stuttered. It was a refreshing change from the defiant, misguided superiority he'd displayed before.

"Oh, and once you finish, I suggest you leave the ship," the former Jedi spoke up again, this time in a harsher tone. "If I find you on it at any point hereafter, you will wish you had listened."

The large being gulped and nodded hurriedly before turning and disappearing inside the vehicle and Obi-wan nodded in satisfaction. Even when the besalisk wasn't there the former Jedi refused to allow himself to relax. If he did so now, he doubted he'd be able to put on a front again and he dared not show any weakness until he left this cursed place once and for all.

Instead, he closed his eyes and searched through the room with the Force. He felt nothing out-of-the-ordinary. This was undoubtedly a private dock because no maintenance workers had been here recently as far as Obi-wan could tell. It was all run by droids.

Speaking of…

"You," Obi-wan said to a still droid against the wall. It was humanoid, with a durosteel frame and many accessories as well as several appendages ending in various tools. The droid in question came out of low-power mode almost immediately and looked at Obi-wan.

"Me, sir?" it asked, sounding rather cranky.

"Yes," Obi-wan said. "Programming."

"I am L9-292, programmed for maintenance, upkeep and determining flight capability of the ships that dock here."

"Can you pilot a ship."

If a droid _could_ look offended, this one did. "Yes, sir."

"Very good. Follow me."

"Excuse me, sir, but you are not my mistress."

Obi-wan had whirled around before he realized it and had the droid in a Force grip. The droid squirmed in a simulation of panic.

"No, I am not," Obi-wan said with a cold calmness he did not feel. "You won't have to worry about her, though, seeing as I killed her. Now you have two choices: One, you come with me and you do as I say. Two, I tear you apart and move on to the next droid. It is up to you."

The droid stopped squirming and stared with lighted eyes at Obi-wan. "If my masters or mistresses die, I am programmed to follow the person in charge. Seeing as you killed her, I will defer to you."

Obi-wan smiled a fake, empty smile. "Excellent choice."

He turned around just in time to see the besalisk hurry off the ship and high-tail it out of the bay. Obi-wan briefly considered killing the being, but ultimately decided that it didn't matter if he survived or not and that ignoring him would be faster.

Decision made, he led the droid onto the ship and closed the ramp. It didn't take long to reach the cockpit, and the controls were familiar enough that Obi-wan had little trouble piloting the freighter away from planet, which was fortuitous as he was having trouble remaining alert. Curse his abused body! Curse Ventress to the deepest depths of pain and torment for the rest of eternity for what she did to him.

With the droid's help, he managed to set the ship on a course to a neutral system that would have the resources to help them before he stumbled into the back and passed out before he could even reach the sleeping area opposite of where Anakin lay.


	3. Chapter 3

_The very nature of the Dark Side is hate. Every Jedi is taught this, but I don't think anyone who has never touched the darkness can even begin to comprehend the concept for the simple reason that their mind-set—their very way of thinking—is completely in opposition to the Dark Side and everything it stands for. _

_Let me explain. Beings in general tend to seek that which makes their lives better, whether that is love, joy, comfort, peace of mind, peace in genera, freedom, etc., most beings instinctually try to obtain that which will improve their situation. Even those who seek power and money tend to want a sense of control that will lead to their peace of mind or comfort. _

_When someone truly embraces the Dark Side, though, they must have at least some (usually much more) hate in their hearts. No matter what led them to make the choice to turn, they cannot consciously do so without that spark of intense resentment as there is no other way to tap into the power the Dark Side represents. The more hatred one has, the more of the darkness one can use. So, in conclusion, to gain more of a connection to the darkness, one must learn to seek after that which makes their lives worse. It is a conundrum because one must learn to at least tolerate—if not outright embracing—the pain and misery that hate brings to gain that positive element they were originally seeking after—in this case, power and control._

_The whole idea is mind-blowing and not at all logical, and so it makes no sense to one who has never turned to the darkness. Therefore, no one who has ever not been there—no true light Jedi or non-Force Sensitive—can ever truly understand. _

When Obi-wan awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he couldn't physically feel anything. Instead, he seemed numb and withdrawn from his surroundings. For a moment, that worried him and he reached out to the Force only to recoil from it when he found it dark and cold. Still, he could at least feel that and he could use it and that was a relief in and of itself.

The next thing he noticed, when he managed to actually pry his eyes open, was that everything was white; so white it hurt to look at. He flinched away from the brightness too, closing his eyes so quickly he could almost hear the snap. So he was in a medbay. That made sense, he supposed.

The third thing he noticed was that while his ability to feel seemed to be coming back slowly, he could hear just fine. This he could tell because a door somewhere had whooshed open. Somehow he didn't think anyone would come by when he was waking up by happenstance, so they must have had some sensor that would inform them when he regained consciousness. That did not sit well with him. The idea of being monitored, even in a medbay, had his nerves yelling at him to get out. He tried to move, but all he could really seem to do was turn his head to watch a figure approaching and try to sit up—try being the operative word. He wasn't quite able to push himself into a sitting position and so he could only watch as the being stopped near his bed.

At first, all he could tell was that the person wore a white robe and looked humanoid. After a few seconds, his eyes finally focused enough to allow him to see the details on the figure. It was a woman in her mid-40's by Obi-wan's guess. She had short, graying hair pulled back into a messy bun and sparkling eyes. She also looked altogether too happy.

"Hello," the woman said, her voice deep and calming. "I'm Healer Kittar and you're in the Hopeful View Hospital on Haadrian."

Right, he'd set the coordinates for a small, out-of-the-way system that most likely wouldn't be involved in the war. He'd half expected to die on the way here and wasn't sure whether he should be glad that he'd made it.

That reminded him. "There was someone else with me," he said in a voice that was all too raspy.

"Ah, yes, your young friend," she said with no small amount of sympathy in her voice. Obi-wan felt a stab of fear.

"Is he alright?" he asked, feeling that fear melt into anger. If these people hadn't done their job and saved Anakin's legs…

"Oh yes. He'll be fine. I can't really tell you much without breaching patient confidentiality, but we expect he'll make a full recovery eventually."

"What do you mean, eventually?" Obi-wan asked, struggling to keep his voice calm.

The healer shook her head. "I can't tell you any specifics unless you're his guardian—"

"I am," Obi-wan verified.

She raised an eyebrow at him, now looking both amused and a little annoyed. "Then I'll need your full name and RIDN*. We can verify your identity, contact whoever you need us to contact—"

"No," the former Jedi cut in. The idea of the Temple knowing anything about him at the moment…if they knew what he'd done… He couldn't stop the shame and guilt from rising within him and it took all of his self discipline to push it aside for now.

"Then it will be up to him to give details," she said with a nonchalant shrug.

And knowing Anakin, he'd leave the worst parts out. That wouldn't do at all. So Obi-wan smiled as nicely as he could and waved a hand. "I am paying for this, and I am his guardian, so you can tell me."

She resisted for a moment, seeming to second guess before looking down at the chart in front of her.

"I can tell you," she said. Obi-wan smirked. "His broken legs were difficult to treat. Compound fractures, bone fragments everywhere…" she shuddered and Obi-wan felt his stomach clench in fear but forced himself to remain quiet as the healer continued. "We had to fuse some of the bone fragments together and then had to extract the rest or burn them away with lasers, but he should make a solid recovery. He may have some minor pain for a period of time in the area where we had to mend the bones, but it won't be anything debilitating. You, on the other hand…" she paused and shook her head. Obi-wan didn't like the pitying expression he could see in her eyes. He was, however, impressed with how quickly she'd thrown off the mind trick and changed the subject. Maybe it was a trait of the Dark Side. He thought he'd heard somewhere that the effects tended to be more temporary when using it to influence another person.

"Your friend won't tell me what happened to you two, but I can guess," she went on. "He was brought in first and with all of those burns and bruises on top of those intentionally broken legs, well we thought it might be abuse. Then you came in. I don't think you realize how miraculous it is that you're alive right now."

Obi-wan scoffed. "That would depend on your definition of 'miraculous'."

The healer's smile faded and she looked at Obi-wan worriedly for a few moments before going on. "Indeed. Well as bad as your friend was, you were in far worse shape. We've had to keep you under while we allowed you to heal. We've had to reconstruct the muscles on your shoulders and back and you'll need therapy if you want to use them properly again. You have had a total of three dips in a bacta tank and are scheduled for at least four more. We've been able to minimize the permanent damage and treat the infections in all of the lacerations as well as the burns, but I'm afraid you will still have some scarring in several places.

"However, on the bright side, you are definitely out of the woods and if you follow your therapy, you can make a full recovery as well. Be warned that you will need to be patient and consistent, and that it will take a while, but it is definitely possible. We actually have three facilities for you to choose from once you finish your next bacta treatment. Whichever facility you choose will be starting you on solid foods."

Obi-wan clenched his teeth. He hated stays in the healer's wing, but he also knew that listening to the healer usually meant a faster or at least more complete recovery. That didn't mean he had to like it. And he _really_ didn't like it.

"Well, that's a summary of everything. Do you have any questions?" the healer asked, drawing Obi-wan's focus back to her. Normally he would have enjoyed her relaxed, personable attitude, but right now it just annoyed him.

"When can I see Anakin?" he asked.

The woman smiled again, causing the few lines at the corners of her eyes to crinkle. "He's actually been asking after you since he woke up. He's been in to see you several times, as a matter of fact, and he's due to come in after he eats, if his constant requests are anything to go by. That should be about a galactic standard hour or so."

"How long have we been here?"

The woman's smile faded ever so slightly. "About two and a half galactic standard weeks."

"Thirteen days***?" Obi-wan probed, wanting exact numbers.

"Fourteen."

That more than anything drove home just what shape his body had been in. He clenched his hands in anger as memories of what the witch had done to him rose to the forefront of his mind.

He forced them back, though, taking deep breaths and refusing to give into the emotions. Putting on a blank face, he turned to the woman again. Her smile had disappeared and she looked rather wary.

"Are you a Jedi?" she asked.

He frowned. "Why do you ask?"

She glanced around the room. "Things started shaking just a second ago and I could swear I've seen things move on their own around your friend."

Obi-wan followed her glance and studied the room himself but saw nothing out of place. Still, he had no doubt that she'd spoken the truth and if that were the case then he would have to work on his control. If he were still a Jedi, this wouldn't be a problem. It seemed, though, that the Dark Side was far different than even he had imagined. His control exercises did not seem to work nearly as well. Then again, he really shouldn't have expected any different.

He'd also have to talk to Anakin about casual use of the Force again, it seemed.

"No," he finally said. "I have some talent with using the Force, but I'm no Jedi."

She studied him carefully for a few moments before nodding. "I see. Well, that explains the high medichlorian count."

So they'd taken and analyzed his blood after all. But then, why did she have to ask if he was a Jedi? If they'd tried to match his blood with the galactic data base…but then again, many planets that had declared neutrality or had broken off to join the Seperatists. Most of those planets had been denied access to the Republic's databases. They could still petition for something if they wished, but the process was long and arduous without someone in the Senate to speak for their cause.

"Yes," he finally replied, his voice neutral. Then he decided to continue with the question he'd wanted to ask earlier, before she'd brought up his status as a Force user. "How long will our recovery take?"

She looked down at the data pad in her hand. "Your friend, Anakin, can leave at any time. As long as he keeps the leg braces on for the next four weeks or so, he shouldn't have a problem. Between your muscle therapy, malnutrition and other healing, I would say you'll be at the care facility for the next two galactic standard months. Probably closer to three."

Not likely. Jedi tended to heal faster than normal beings. Then again, he wasn't a Jedi anymore. Would that make a difference? He suspected so. Still, he found little use in dwelling on what he could only guess at right now. "Will the account number I instructed our droid to give you have sufficient funds?"

The woman raised an eyebrow, smirking ever so slightly. " Surprisingly, yes, at least according to the statements from the bank holding your account. Normally I don't discuss anything financial with my patients, but due to your lack of insurance we had to ask if the account would cover the funds. From what they said, I don't think you'll have a problem paying for anything you need for quite some time, which is extremely good because long-term care can get rather expensive without insurance. Sadly, we run into the problem quite a lot. Most people don't realize that most insurances don't cover that kind of care.** Especially off-planet insurances."

She paused and shook her head with a smile, as if to apologize. "I'm sorry for getting side tracked. If you want more information I can have our account manager speak with you."

"If you could," he answered, noting how cold and dead his tone sounded with a curious disapproval. Still, it was better than angry or dangerous. Perhaps he had more control than he realized. Or perhaps it was just a different kind of control? Or perhaps his new source of power was what was really different; darker and colder and inherently so unlike the calm warmth he was so used to. Of course it wasn't responding exactly like the normal Force. It was similar enough that he had no doubt he could adapt, but it was also just different enough to give him problems.

But it had been worth Anakin's life. Anakin was safe now and Obi-wan was safe now…and that's what really mattered, wasn't it?

It was getting hard to think again, so he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind for later contemplation. He'd been doing that a lot lately.

"You're undoubtedly still tired," Healer Kittar said with a soft smile back in place. "Why don't you rest. I'll inform Anakin that you're awake and we can work everything out from there."

For some reason, it bothered him that she expected him to follow her suggestion, but he forced the strange sensation down with a curt nod and allowed his body to relax. He'd never admit how good it felt. He remembered hearing the door open again as the healer left, but he didn't remember much after that.

xXx

When he woke up again, it was to a steady beating of a heart monitor…and he couldn't help but blink at the use of the ancient (if effective) technology he had only read about in history holos. And how had he not noticed that when he'd woken before? Then again, he could barely remember his conversation with the healer, just the important details, and he had to strain for even those.

Anakin sat by his bed side reading a data pad. It had been easier for Obi-wan to open his eyes this time, but he couldn't focus on that, or how much better he felt now, or anything else really, except the relief that his Padawan—his charge—was safe, and he could see that with his own eyes.

Involuntarily, he relaxed, feeling the tension leak out of him with the breath he released. Anakin must have noticed because he glanced over at Obi-wan, and then he was at his master's side.

"Master?" he asked softly but warily, as if he didn't expect Obi-wan to answer him back.

"Anakin," he responded, or tried to. His voice came out a little slurred but thankfully still recognizable and he could already feel his control over the muscles returning to him. "So glad you're safe."

"Thanks to you," the younger man said with a smile. "If you keep this up, you might actually catch up with me."

Obi-wan scoffed. "I would think this puts me ahead, actually."

Anakin rolled his eyes, shaking his head good naturedly and Obi-wan marveled at how_ normal_ he felt at the moment. It was a good feeling—something that seemed so foreign after his recent months—and he suddenly wanted nothing more than for this moment to last. He took a few seconds to commit everything he felt right then to memory so he could revisit this scene again in the future. That turned out to be an intelligent course of action because Anakin had always been one to speak his mind and tended to bring the conversation around to the proverbial hutt in the room rather quickly.

"I don't know if you know, so I'll tell you, we're on a small planet called Haadrian," Anakin said in the bored tone he used for debriefing. "It's actually a base for the mining that goes on in the system and has several colonies on it, even though it isn't a naturally habitable planet."

Obi-wan knew that. He'd known a little about the system and had read a quick summary on it before putting the coordinates into the nav computer. It had little more than mining facilities and healing facilities, and for some reason the healing facilities were known to be extremely good for the type of budget they had. Why they had been set up here or how the strange relationship between the healers and the miners had come into being Obi-wan did not know. He hadn't exactly had time to read up on the planet's history before passing out.

"It is a neutral system," Anakin continued, "and not connected to Courscant's holonet, which is probably a good thing, seeing as I would have tried to contact the Temple before I found out about the orders you gave the droid to give to me. Between those and their declaration as neutral, well, they didn't want to let me near a com station even before they found out you didn't want to contact the Temple."

Then he turned and eyed his master warily. "Why, Master? Why don't you want me to let the Temple know that we're alive? And why don't you want these people to know who we are?"

Obi-wan didn't answer for several seconds. On one hand, he was pleasantly surprised that Anakin had figured out his motivation. On the other hand, how was he supposed to tell Anakin that he wasn't going back to the Temple? How could he explain that he couldn't face them—his friends and compatriots—again? The guilt and shame would utterly destroy him then.

And since when was he such a coward? He knew he couldn't run forever, but then, he still had things he had to do before he could go before the Jedi Council and confess—and he was surprised that he actually had every intention of doing so. They wouldn't let him out of their sight once he went to them—and maybe they could even help him, except that all the teachings stated that once he started down the dark path, he couldn't come back. Even now he still couldn't seem to reach out to the warm light; it wouldn't answer his call. He couldn't dismiss the thought from his head that the Force deemed him unworthy now and that he would never be able to have that comforting peace again. He could hope that the Jedi could help him return, but at the very least he would be withdrawn from the war, and he couldn't allow that. He had to protect Anakin; had to keep his charge safe. To accomplish that goal, he would have to destroy the separatist leaders, which meant he would have to go after the Sith. That was the only thing that would guarantee Anakin at least had the chance to live his life. And he would. Obi-wan would see to that.

But how could he tell all of that to Anakin?

Just when he thought the shame couldn't get any worse…

He realized Anakin was staring at him in a strange sort of disbelief.

"You feel different, Master," he said quietly, almost as if he didn't believe what he'd said. Obi-wan looked away. What could he say? If he told Anakin what he'd done, Anakin would demand to know why, and then he'd blame himself. Could Obi-wan do that to his Padawan? Put him through similar pain he himself was going through? The pain he would now have to live with for the rest of his life?

But then could he lie to Anakin? Openly and blatantly and with every intention of never telling him the truth?

Anakin leaned back and stretched casually, as if he'd sat in place for too long. "Please, Master. I don't know what happened, but it can't be that bad," Anakin said with just a little too much nonchalance. Obi-wan read the underlying message. _It couldn't possibly be worse than what we've just been through together. _If only he knew…and yet Obi-wan couldn't see himself explaining that to Anakin. He didn't want to explain or even acknowledge it himself.

So he did what he usually did when he couldn't rationalize something away, he kept silent. Usually when he got into this kind of a mood, Anakin left him alone until he could sort out his thoughts. This time, though, his Padawan must have sensed the subtle difference between their current circumstances and anything that had happened before because he didn't seem to have any intention of backing down.

"Master, please, tell me what happened."

Although he did sound less flippant and more worried now. Obi-wan felt his gut clench. Anakin used that soft, pleading voice so rarely these days, but he still could not seem to muster the motivation or courage to explain.

"Fine," Anakin said after a moment, his voice thick with annoyance and stubborn determination. "I'll just go contact the Council after all."

With that, he stood and turned to stride to the door, the braces on his legs allowing him to walk almost normally. Obi-wan felt a flash of fear race through his heart. If Anakin commed the Jedi Temple, then they would send someone out to look them over and retrieve them. No, he couldn't let that happen!

"Don't," he said, his voice slightly dangerous and with more than a little warning to it.

Anakin either didn't recognize the tone or ignored it as he turned his mulish frown on his master. "Why not?"

"I have my reasons."

"And they are?"

Obi-wan glared at his apprentice for a few minutes before folding his hands calmly on his lap, his outward serenity belying the desperation that coursed through him in a sort of throb of power. It would take him a while to get used to all of this terrible, damaging emotion connecting him to the Force and consequently giving him more confidence; something relitively positive from something so negative. It was all a horrible, twisted duplicity that he was having a difficult time truly comprehending. No wonder Sith were so depraved.

"Don't you trust me, Anakin?" he whispered and tried not to feel even _more_ guilt at the stung look on his Padawan's face.

"Of course I do, Master."

"Then why are you questioning me? Can you just follow my wishes this once?"

At first Anakin stood there looking like he had just after he'd come to the Jedi Temple, small, lost and floundering. Back then, Obi-wan would have reached out to lend support. Now, though, that wouldn't work to his favor, so he simply kept his head down, as if looking away from his apprentice in disappointment, positive that Anakin wouldn't notice Obi-wan studying him out of the corner of his eyes.

Then, the younger Jedi's countenance changed, and he straightened his back, folding his arms in front of his chest and frowning.

"I'm questioning you because you're not acting like normal," he said bluntly. Typical Anakin. In any other case, Obi-wan would have snorted derisively. This time, though, the turned his head and looked Anakin directly in the eyes.

"After my experiences, would you not expect that I would change."

"Which is why I'm worried!" Anakin said in exasperation, throwing his hands in the air. "You're so different! It's like...like you're not you at all! Except you are…but…" he trailed off, face turning red with frustration at his inability to put his thoughts into words.

Despite himself, Obi-wan felt touched. "Anakin, you don't need to worry about me. Shouldn't it be the other way around? The apprentice shouldn't have to worry about the master."

Anakin actually pouted at that. Obi-wan wondered for about the millionth time when his young charge would grow up. And yet, he also found the boy's actions endearing and amusing.

"That might be easier if you didn't get yourself into situations that you need to be rescued from," Anakin muttered. This time, Obi-wan couldn't help the slight sigh or the smile that escaped him. They sat there in silence for a few moments, each entertaining their own thoughts before Anakin's expression melted back to marginally worried.

"You really don't want me to contact the Temple?"

Obi-wan's own smile disappeared. "No."

"Fine, but you _still_ owe me an explanation."

And the worst part about that was the fact that he really did. Obi-wan wondered if he would get used to the awful guilt and shame that seemed to increase every time he opened his mouth.

"Later, Anakin."

The boy sighed, but must have realized that he wouldn't get anything else out of his master, because he plopped back into the chair and reached for the data pad again.

"Can you at least tell me how we escaped?"

Obi-wan tensed, despite himself. Of course, Anakin _would_ ask a question like that. He'd see it as changing the subject, but all it really did was touch on what Obi-wan didn't want to talk about.

He couldn't seem to make himself answer, and Anakin's frown deepened.

"How did you get past Ventress?" he pressed. Why was he being so pushy today? Then again, it was Anakin, but couldn't he just drop it for once? Maybe if he just told Anakin the truth he would be able to shut the boy up. Then he realized just how mean and thoughtless that idea was and he couldn't help but sigh. No, he couldn't lie to Anakin. To anyone else, maybe, but if he were in Anakin's shoes, he would want to know the truth too. He just wasn't sure when he could actually say it all aloud or what would happen if he did…

"She's dead," he finally said, hoping that would just let the whole matter be over and done with. He should have known better. He blamed his still recovering body because he suddenly felt so tired…

"What?! How?" Anakin asked, sitting straighter.

Obi-wan looked down at his hands, remembering the feel of the power that had enveloped him as he squeezed the life out of her; how good and simultaneously sickening it had been and how part of him—if he really were honest with himself—had actually _enjoyed_ the feeling.

Just what kind of a monster had he become? He had perverted what his master had done his best to teach and…oh, and how could he ever hope to honor Qui-gon's memory now? The man who had been so good and light and both of his apprentices now had fallen to the darkness. The results couldn't possibly reflect what Qui-gon had taught. He hated the idea of him having anything in common with Xanatos and yet, if his master had been alive, Obi-wan would have hurt him just as badly (if not worse) than his first Padawan had.

Had Xanatos felt the way he did now? How about Dooku? Is that what Obi-wan had to look forward to? A complete and utter subversion of anything he'd ever been and everything he stood for? Would he start _seeking out _people simply to kill them? To get that rush of power and control and…

_I killed her_, Obi-wan suddenly thought. For some reason, it hadn't seemed to really sink in, but now, sitting there with Anakin watching him, it struck him. _Oh, Force, I killed her, in cold blood! I need to leave! Anakin needs to leave! I can't let him see me like this! I'll never be able to change back to what I was before, nothing will ever be the same, everything is ruined forever and I chose this! Oh Force…_"

He couldn't seem to get enough air and the monitor's beeping had sped up.

"Master?" Anakin asked, almost sounding on the verge of panic, but Obi-wan couldn't face him, couldn't look at him when all he could think about was how he'd failed everyone around him and how he had, on some level, _liked_ it.

"Oh, Force," he breathed, putting his hands over his eyes.

"Master?!" Anakin said again, this time sounding even more worried somehow. Obi-wan was vaguely aware of the whoosh of the door opening and hurried footsteps.

"What happened?" an unfamiliar but obviously masculine voice asked.

"I don't know!" Anakin almost wailed. "We were just talking and then…this! What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," the voice replied. Then solid footsteps towards him. _No_! He did _not_ want anyone remotely close to him! He almost flung the other being back with the Force, but somehow managed to clamp down on that urge, recognizing that that would only make the whole situation worse. Instead he shied back, physically moving away from the dull presence that was approaching even as it continued to speak. "It could be a panic attack, he could be reliving a flashback, he could be having a physical reaction to something—although that is unlikely." The unfamiliar voice seemed to be listing things off more to himself than to Anakin, the rational part of Obi-wan somehow registered vaguely in the back of his mind.

"A what?!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"NO!" Anakin's indignation and anger was not helping Obi-wan at the moment, not that there was any way for the boy to know that.

"Please, sir, I have to—"

"Not happening."

The words brushed by Obi-wan's senses barely noticed. He could only feel the frustration and panic behind the voices and it only served to feed his own similar feelings. He could swear the world was closing in on him, around him…and where was his peace? His serenity? It wasn't there! And he could never have it again! Would he be left feeling like this forever? Like he had been set adrift on Kamino's seas without any sort of control? He didn't have the calm anymore, so what did he have left? Nothing but darkness and anger and hate and guilt...always the guilt. The soul-crushing, ever increasing guilt—

_No!_ he told himself firmly, clamping down on his steadily rising panic with all of his will. The calm didn't come naturally to him now, but that didn't mean he would lose his head. He may not be a Jedi anymore, but he was still Obi-wan Kenobi and he would not simply lie down and let the darkness consume him. He would have to fight for his state of calm, so fight he would—even if his opponent was himself.

He forced himself to pause in his breathing and let the air in his lungs out until he began to see spots creep in on the edges of his vision before he allowed himself to take another lung full of air. He felt his muscles begin to relax and focused on taking long, even breaths. Force this would take some adjustment. He kept realizing that over and over again as the little differences began to stand out.

"I'm fine," he finally managed to say (quite calmly too, if he did say so himself), interrupting the continuing argument between his Padawan and the nurse-healer who had come in. Anakin had, to his credit, negotiated to stay in the room while the healer did what he had to do to help the former Jedi Knight.

Obi-wan glanced over at them to see they had both shut their mouths and were staring at him. Anakin looked like he wanted to break the temporary—if deafening—silence, but the healer beat him to it.

"You'll excuse me if I don't take your word for that," he said dryly, either ignoring or not seeing the dirty look Anakin shot him. Before Obi-wan could protest, the nurse—a _bothan_ of all beings (not that he had anything against the information-gathering species, but he'd never heard of one going into a medical field off of their own planet)—walked back over to the bed and began to take his vitals. For the second time in five minutes, it took every ounce of self control Obi-wan possessed to not either flinch away or attack the being for his sudden approach, but if he could control the panic, then he could control his reactions too. He wasn't really surprised at how difficult that control was though.

After forcing himself to remain still for a few seconds, he allowed himself to glance over at Anakin. What he saw puzzled him.

Normally, Obi-wan could read Anakin's emotions like an open book. He could tell when the boy hid things, when he was tired, cranky, annoyed, upset, excited, happy and any one of a hundred other emotions or combinations thereof. Obi-wan knew Anakin had always believed his Master couldn't see the thoughts he wore so openly (for some unfathomable reason) and had simply let Anakin continue to believe he'd hidden that facet of his emotions because Obi-wan had wanted Anakin to trust him; to come to him when necessary, so he had never forced the issue.

That had changed after Geonosis. Something had transformed somehow within Anakin, and Obi-wan didn't know what. He'd tried to confront his Padawan, with less than spectacular results. So Obi-wan had been forced to change tactics because he'd finally realized that Anakin would never really talk to him…and that had hurt both in the fact that his Padawan didn't trust him, and the fact that his method of encouraging their Master/Padawan relationship had basically backfired. Obi-wan could always tell what Anakin was feeling, but he rarely knew why.

Except, right now, he couldn't read Anakin's expression, and in a strange, poetic sort of exchange, he knew why. Obi-wan had never panicked before, at least not in front of Anakin. It was unusual for him, and he had little doubt that Anakin had caught it, no matter what the healer said. The boy had never been focused on solving or planning or figuring things out, but that did not mean that he was, by any means, stupid. When he put his brain to use, he could give Obi-wan a run for his credits in that area.

"Well, your vitals have basically returned to normal," the nurse said, interrupting Obi-wan's thoughts and sounding almost annoyed—which, in turn, annoyed Obi-wan. What in the Galaxy could the being possibly be annoyed about? "I'd still like to contact healer Kittar and discuss possible treatments if instances like these continue."

"Trust me," Obi-wan said in a frosty tone. "They won't." He couldn't let them…

"Nevertheless," the bothan said as he straightened, "it is my job to report this."

"Yeah, thanks," Anakin said suddenly with a half-hearted smile at the healer. Obi-wan blinked. Had Anakin actually just stepped in as a mediator? It had been awkward and blunt (typical Anakin), but Obi-wan found it more than a little strange that their roles had, even if only temporarily, switched.

"Let us know what she thinks," Obi-wan said with forced politeness. A few of the other Jedi had begun to call him 'The Negotiator' before he'd been captured by Ventress. While he'd felt the title had been a bit ridiculous, he was not about to give his niche up because his source of power had changed. If he couldn't control that source now, then he would learn, because he refused to lose any more of himself—he'd lost far too much as it was.

The bothan eyed both of the Jedi for a moment before he seemed to simply accept that he probably wouldn't understand anyway and just nodded at his patients before turning and walking out of the room.

"What was that?" Anakin asked after the door had closed. His voice was dry but tinged with more than a little concern; concern that Obi-wan really didn't deserve. He had chosen this, after all. Once again, he tried to reach for the light and warmth of the normal Force, but again only the wild iciness met his efforts. Was this why Jedi who fell tended to stay fallen? Not because they chose to continue on their path, but because they couldn't reach the light again? That certainly made sense, but Obi-wan had had brushes with the Dark Side before. Why could he return to the light then but not now? Because it had been more of an instinct before whereas this time it had been a conscious choice? Did the darkness corrupt that utterly?

And right then, Obi-wan realized that Anakin had to leave him. He could not continue to corrupt Anakin…at least not until Obi-wan had more control over the darkness. Besides, seeing the look on the Padawan's face made the former Jedi realize that he was the center of Anakin's concern, and it was only worrying the boy more, which in turn was making Obi-wan more upset which only aggravated his condition and that was at least part of the reason why his control was shot to the netherworld. Anakin had to get away from here—away from him and away from the darkness that Obi-wan now represented.

The thought reasserted itself over and over in his mind. He couldn't allow the darkness to taint Anakin.

"I…don't know," Obi-wan heard himself answer, and didn't even blink at the lie. He had a part to play, and if there was anything he had skill concerning, it was acting. If he had a second skill, it was planning, and a close third would have to be manipulation.

"Master, this isn't normal," Anakin started, but Obi-wan cut him off.

"Just what about this entire situation is _normal_?" the older man asked, his voice wry and just a tad angry. Anakin closed his mouth, but he didn't lose that stubborn glint in his eye.

So Obi-wan forced himself to relax and deflate. "You wanted to know why I don't want to go back to the Temple. It's because it will only remind me of who I used to be—who I was before _she_ managed to get a hold of me. I think I just need some time to recover before I go back, Anakin. I don't want to have another one of those…episodes I just had in front of the Council." And there was more than a little truth to his statement. Anakin must have sensed that because he deflated too.

"Then we'll stay here until you're ready to go," he said in a surprisingly understanding tone.

Obi-wan closed his eyes in supposed defeat and looked away.

"What is it, Master?" Anakin asked, just as Obi-wan had known he would.

"I can't stay here, no matter how much I want to. The rest of the galaxy shouldn't have to wait for us to come back because I was stupid enough to get captured."

A ripple through the Force let Obi-wan know that Anakin hadn't taken that well. The manipulation was blatant and obvious, at least to Obi-wan, but fortunately Anakin had never had much of an eye for spotting such things.

"That could have happened to anyone! Besides, you're not going back! You won't be able to help anyone if you collapse or suddenly panic in the middle of a fight! You need to stay here and rest! Recover and then you and I can go save the universe."

"But there are so many worlds that need us, Anakin," Obi-wan said, his voice quiet and pained. It wasn't difficult for him to inject that tone into his words, even if the reasoning would be different from what Anakin would assume.

Anakin shook his head vehemently. "No, Master! You said so yourself. You just need to stay here and rest."

"That isn't a luxury I have," Obi-wan said with a sigh.

"No, it's necessary!" Anakin insisted. Then he paused and ran a hand through his hair. "If it really bothers you that much, then I'll go. I'll let the Temple know that you're alive and healing. When you're ready you can come back."

Obi-wan turned his head quickly to fix his gaze on his Padawan. "No, Anakin, you need to rest just as much as I do—"

"No, I don't," Anakin cut in with a roll of his eyes. "I need these braces, and that's it. I've been itching to get out of here anyway. They won't let me tinker with any of their droids and I am _so_ booored!"

And wasn't that just like Anakin too?

Obi-wan made a show of contemplating Anakin's words before he finally shook his head with a sigh. "As much as I want to disagree with you, you're right. Take the ship and then come back for me in a few days."

Anakin frowned. "The healer said it would take months."

"Anakin," Obi-wan started.

"No, Master," the younger man said shortly. "You're going to stay here and heal, and that's that."

"One month," Obi-wan said.

"Three," Anakin replied.

Obi-wan frowned. "One and a half."

"Two, final offer."

The former Jedi raised an eyebrow. "Or what?"

"Or I bring the Jedi here directly and you go back to the Temple where I know they can keep you down."

Obi-wan didn't have to fake looking scandalized. "You wouldn't."

Anakin smirked. "Oh really?"

Finally Obi-wan let out another sigh. "Fine, I agree."

The smirk turned into a full-blown smile. "Good. I'll go check over the ship and see if anything needs replacing or rewiring—"

"Anakin," Obi-wan cut in, "don't ruin it."

It was Anakin's turn to look scandalized. "Since when have I ever ruined a ship?"

Obi-wan rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Please, be careful."

Looking put out, Anakin shooed his Master's concern away with a wave of his hand. "Fine, fine. I'll be back later today with an update on the status of the ship."

Obi-wan nodded with a fond smile as his Padawan left with a final wave of his hand.

As soon as the door closed, the smile vanished and the former Jedi found himself staring at the door with a blank expression. Who would have known how hard it would be to act like his former self—like the man he had been just weeks ago.

He came to the conclusion that Dooku deserved a medal for his own acting abilities. He'd always seemed so collected and was only different from his reputation as a Jedi Master when one looked at the consequences of his actions or pushed the man.

That brought Obi-wan's train of thought back to the task at hand. He had a lot of planning to do before Anakin returned that evening and it would all have to be executed in a month or less…well, he definitely had his work cut out for him.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he only vaguely acknowledged the fact that he had blatantly manipulated his Padawan into doing his bidding. After all, the guilt was a constant now and adding more to the already vast ocean of shame hardly required his attention. Besides, he realized grimly, ignoring it was somehow easier.

*RIDN – A term I made up. If people here in the US have Social Security numbers, then I would be very surprised if people in the Republic didn't have something similar. RIDN basically stands for 'Republic Identification Number'.

**This is actually true today. Older people don't realize that their Medicare plans don't cover long-term care and younger people don't realize that few company health plans cover it as well so that's where I got this from. I've recently gotten out of the insurance business and I couldn't help but realize just what a NIGHTMARE dealing with insurance from another _PLANET_ (a planet that isn't technically in the Republic, none the less) must be! *shudder*

***Galactic standard weeks are 5 days long, with 4 working days and 1 weekend day. Months tend to have about 5 standard weeks in them. Therefore, two weeks = 10 days, half a week = 2-3 days.


	4. Chapter 4

_The most difficult thing for me was learning to think through the emotions. All of my life, I had learned to accept my emotions and then to give them up before I made a decision. When that no longer became an option, I very suddenly found myself having to learn from scratch to think _despite_ my emotions. It may have been the one area of my personality that actually improved after I fell. _

The Clone War, as all wars throughout history, had created far more than its fair share of victims. Unlike other wars in recent times, the Jedi did not escape this. If anything, it was just the opposite. The centuries old Jedi Order, which had helped to bring about the peace that was now being systematically destroyed, would of course be at the forefront of every battle, fighting for harmony again…at least, that's what the news channels stated. After all, one of the many reasons why the Jedi were allowed the privileges they were was because of their neutral defense of peace. As protectors of the galaxy, they were expected to fight for that peace as well. Most Jedi agreed to this propaganda to some extent, but they also didn't see how keeping peace meant fighting and destroying. For the Jedi Order had indoctrinated a certain level of pacifism into its Jedi for longer than any current member had lived, and that was a hard thing to let go of.

Truthfully, destroying droids wasn't so bad. Slicing into Force-dead machinery and electronics would never be anything that really hung on any Jedi's conscious or made them question who their enemy was off the battlefield. The real problem was that Jedi were also losing comrades and civilians and the clones that supported them (who were alive in and of themselves—and thus to be cherished and protected).

Thus, almost from the beginning, the war had felt extremely one-sided to the Republic and many in the Order itself. The enemy leaders never had to relent or worry about the cost of lives as more than production numbers, whereas the Jedi had to deal with a near crippling level of loss not felt in generations. This caused them to find themselves, even if only in the deepest part of their hearts, truly caring for the Jedi lost to battle and the people underneath them coupled with a growing reluctance to lose anyone else.

It seemed there wasn't a week that went by without at least five new casualties among the Jedi Knights or Padawans. The Order may not have been encouraged to form attachments, but none could deny that that the holes those Jedi left at home were aching, gaping sores that many found difficult to deal with. Who would be the next person on the list of dead or missing? Or worse, as some of them whispered. A few Jedi that came home, driven to pain or cowardice by a loss that they had been unable to bear, had been forever changed—and not in any way positive. Far too many veterens disappeared into meditation chambers—refusing to surface—or had to be placed under heavy sedation with the Healers for their own good. Such situations were becoming far too common, and each Jedi's loss would only force another into the field, possibly never to be seen again.

And yet, not fighting seemed just as wrong to their mindset, because the Jedi were _meant_ to protect—to help and support and keep other beings alive. If they pulled out of the war, no matter how much healing they needed, what then? Who would they be protecting? What right would they have to face the spirits of the people cut down by the droids in the afterlife because they weren't there as they had promised to be?

The only answer seemed to be nothing other than 'end the war'. So that was what they strove for. They would carry on, despite the stabs of pain and sadness that the entire temple seemed to feel every time one of their own fell. They would mourn for their losses, release their emotions to the Force as best they could and move on to the next battle.

And yet, some wounds seemed as if they would never truly heal. One such sore inflicted was when General Obi-wan Kenobi—the man who seemed to be able to talk or maneuver his way out of anything and the renowned Sith Killer—had gone missing, presumed dead. It had become even worse when his Padawan, the hope of the Order's future, the fabled 'Chosen One' who could practically bulldoze his way through any situation his Master couldn't talk them out of, also vanished in a similar manner. Their losses had been enormous blows both to the war effort and to almost every Knight, Padawan and Master personally. The news had been demoralizing to the Jedi that saw the two leaders as pillars of strength, figures standing tall that broke the war around them rather than letting the war break them. Losing them had felt—yes felt, even if none would admit it aloud—like losing what little faith they had that the Order would be able to come through this war still mostly intact.

Which was why when a message with Padawan Skywalker's personal code came to the Temple, most of the Jedi who heard could only stare in disbelief at the holo-projector displaying the visage of the supposedly lost boy. His return from the dead brought a desperate relief from the nigh overwhelming losses that they had suffered under, and rekindled a hope that had vanished from the steadily declining moral of the Jedi. Then the news he brought back of Knight Kenobi's survival spread, causing even more surprise and all masters turned blind eyes to the quiet displays of joy, hope and renewed vigor that sprung up among the younger ranks.

His announcement also cemented his position as the 'Chosen One' in the minds of several of the more skeptical residents of the Temple, for Anakin had had faith in one of their brightest brothers when all others had lost it. He had held hope and trust in his heart and his steady dedication had been rewarded. The fact that Obi-wan was in seclusion and recovering was of little consequence. The fact that Padawan Skywalker refused to reveal his Master's location, while worrying to the truly jaded that felt he might have lost his mind rather than found his Master, was something others found as an example of dedication, understanding and acceptance. After all, the older man needed time to heal and Anakin seemed determined to see that he received it.

The story the boy related regarding the pair's whereabouts was nothing short of amazing, and half of the Jedi felt that what he remembered had to be influenced by either drugs or pain (or both). Either that, or he was purposefully embellishing. Still, despite the fact that only two months earlier no one had believed Obi-wan Kenobi lived—no matter what Anakin had said at the time—few disbelieved him now. His desperate determination from before had melted into a calm certainty that few could deny, and as such, they looked forward to celebrating a favorite general's return home, to help assuage that much more of the loss.

People only started to become wary when, about a month after Padawan Skywalker's return, the boy revealed that he couldn't reach his Master. After a week or so of this, Anakin informed the Council that he would return to the planet his Master was supposed to be recovering on. The wariness turned to anxiousness within the Order when Anakin returned with the information that the Knight had, once again, vanished, practically cleaning out the funds in the account he had been using up until that point. What was their General doing? Did he find a new house of healing? Or did he abandon them? Would he leave them to suffer losses that he could have prevented because of their lack of faith in him?

Only those with the highest clearance became seriously concerned for the man as Padawan Skywalker had not only returned with news, he had also brought home a note left for him in place of the funds in the depleted account.

_Dear Padawan, _

_There is so much to say that I cannot really begin to put it all into words. As such, I will only say this and hope that you come to understand one day._

_Anakin…I'm sorry._

_-Obi-wan_

Unlike the Council, Padawan Skywalker refused to guess at the reason for the words, stating that he would ask his Master when he came home. Then, as if deliberately to counter the maturity that he had recently displayed, the boy then showed his age and lack of experience by throwing almost every extra moment into locating his master again instead of focusing more on the war. Really, it only confirmed to the Council that he was not ready to move up to the station of a Knight, and though his esteem in their eyes had grown, no one there argued otherwise, and thus he remained a Padawan.

xXx

Coming up with basic plans for his general goals weren't that difficult, especially for someone of Obi-wan's mental caliber. Finding the right people to manipulate into helping him with his plan and contacting them was also surprisingly easy but extremely time-consuming. Designing contingencies for his plan took more thought and time due to his refusal to leave more to chance than he had to. Still, he had always known that the true difficulty would lay in the execution.

He could plan for centuries and never come up with everything that _could _happen, and the thought of the unknown, something he couldn't design an option for, was something he knew he couldn't truly plan for. Plans rarely survived first contact, after all, whether the plan was a war strategy or a carefully laid, step-by-step progression towards a goal. Before, that would have bothered him. Now, it angered him…and he hated that.

So he hashed and rehashed every single plot he designed, no matter how frustrated it made him or how he just wanted to throw everything to the wind and pull an Anakin—charge in with his lightsaber blazing and simply make everyone see sense. Eventually, he reached a point where he was satisfied enough with what he had to stop losing sleep. Ironically enough, that was when he really began to make progress in his physical therapy.

At the center of all his plans stood Count Dooku. Really, who else could possibly have the answers Obi-wan needed: why the Sith had _really_ started this war, what their end goal was (besides destruction of the Republic and the Order), how they planned on accomplishing this, etc. A lot of those questions weren't that difficult to really come up with an answer to, especially now. Still, Obi-wan had been able to sense that something deeper and darker was going on since before Geonosis. Many Jedi had felt the same. Now that he was more or less a Dark Jedi, that feeling had only increased, which didn't exactly lay Obi-wan's suspicions to rest.

His plots and plans for the whole month he had spent on Haadrian after Anakin left were hatched and refined in a small recovery facility that catered to richer clients. They had the individual attention that Obi-wan had needed and it made all the difference. His rehabilitation had progressed in leaps and bounds, and they had been far more lenient on who Obi-wan could and couldn't contact than the hospital would have been, which made his ability to scheme far easier.

That month had also been instrumental in Obi-wan coming to a rather tenuous truce with himself. The heart of the matter lay in the fact that he still wanted to be a Jedi. If he could find the will to turn from the Dark Side and all of its enticing power and wild energy, he would jump at the chance in a heartbeat. The problem was that he still could not seem to do so…and he couldn't help but wonder if that meant some subconscious part of him truly wanting the power the Dark Side gave him. The thought bothered him, and so he avoided touching the Force as he could almost feel the new energy twisting and corrupting him. Already he wasn't even sure if he really was still Obi-wan Kenobi at all, which gave him a new perspective on why Sith chose to take new names.

Once he had his course of action more or less solidified, he knew he would have to broach the subject of what Dooku's responses to his actions would be. It hadn't been something he'd been looking forward to figuring out as the fact of the matter was Obi-wan was positive he could not hide his new status from the man, and really, he did not want to put up with the smug superiority that the older ex-Jedi would undoubtedly exude. However, that line of thinking led him back to their meeting on Geonosis, when Dooku had asked Obi-wan to join him. It had been far more subtle than that, but once all of the pleasantries and supposedly casual observations were stripped away, that had essentially been what he'd asked. Obi-wan had little doubt that the other man would ask him again if they met face-to-face. If he went into the situation without having decided before hand what his response would be, he knew he could easily be swept up in Dooku's offers. The man had charisma, control, class…and all of them would be far more appealing to Obi-wan now. Especially considering that the man essentially had the power to stop the war if he so chose _plus_ his knowledge and experience using both sides of the Force.

Obi-wan had never sought power, but he had always held a weakness for knowledge—especially when it could possibly help him to feel less adrift than he currently did. Still, he was stubborn too, and Obi-wan refused to simply 'go along' with anything. He wouldn't be able to protect Anakin like that, so he seriously asked himself if he could ever see himself joining the Sith—a question he was not happy to ask, but one he knew he honestly had to consider.

The answer had been a surprisingly firm 'no'. The cold, hard truth really came down to the fact that the Sith had put Anakin's life in danger, and Obi-wan couldn't forgive them for that. They had also—either directly or indirectly—threatened the lives of every other person who meant anything to Obi-wan and he couldn't see that stopping any time soon. From what he could recall from his lessons as a youngling, to join the Sith Order, one had to murder someone close to them in cold blood, and that was simply something Obi-wan was unwilling to do. He didn't feel the same towards anyone who had meant something to him now, but he did still harbor emotions towards them and the memory of what he had once felt for them was something that seemed to be able to keep him on some semblance of a moral path. He had no delusions that he could always rely on that—eventually, the darkness would corrupt that too—but for now, he did have it and he would cling to it.

So he had come to the conclusion that, dark or not, a Jedi he would remain after all. It was funny, but after he'd taken the leap into the darkness he'd expected to be…well, different. It surprised him that he still seemed to be only slowly descending into the miasma—inevitably and constantly as he could not turn and go back, no matter how he tried, but somehow he felt that when most dark-siders fell, they would do so very quickly.

He figured that this difference in him lay in his path to the Dark Side—the ever encompassing, crushing guilt that he had more or less learned to accept as a constant in his life now. It was funny in a rather grim sort of way that that which had lead him to the darkness now also kept him somehow connected to the light. He felt guilty for turning his back on everything he had ever known, which connected him to the darkness but also encouraged him to look back. He felt guilty for manipulating and practically abandoning his Padawan, which made him want to keep tabs on him and ensure the boy's future instead of destroying or eradicating it. He felt guilty for having been so weak as to have been captured by a Sith Acolyte, which had given him the power to kill her but had also rid her evil from the Galaxy and thus gave him a small sense of accomplishment and peace that lay buried beneath the lust for power and the steadily growing anger that he had never before equated with himself.

The double-edged result of his actions tended to give him a headache whenever he thought about it, so he tried to avoid doing so. Still, Obi-wan had never considered himself a coward, and so he refused to back away from the realizations permanently, and thus he had eventually forced himself to examine the situation from that view point.

One thing the Dark Side seemed to encourage that the normal Force didn't was the sheer possibility and potential that lay at the very core of the nigh-untamable (and yet surprisingly pliable at the same time) energy. The darkness did not lend itself to healing or peace, but the very ideas of what Obi-wan could do with it if he so chose was something that both intrigued him and made him extremely wary. He had no doubt that more than one person had lost themselves to that very idea. Just because he _could_ do something didn't mean he _should_, although that thought seemed so…obsolete now. The techniques he could discover could change the universe! So why should it matter who got in his way and who he had to destroy or torture to discover them?

And then he would remember Anakin and the sheer worry on the boy's face, or he would think back to those two women who meant so much to him even now, or Mace Windu who he'd thought of as a mentor and friend, or Master Yoda who had always been the most powerful being that Obi-wan had ever known, and he'd done so with the warmth and light, not the darkness. It always managed to put everything into perspective. He concluded that he could experiment as long as those he had cared for would not be hurt—which meant he could learn control and techniques only through what he already knew and what he could conceivably do by/to himself, because he had little doubt that they would all find out what he had done eventually and he wanted to minimize the pain and betrayal they would undoubtedly feel. If he'd hurt anyone else at that point, they would never forgive him, and he couldn't live with that.

He had already adapted most what he knew of his lighter techniques to the darkness and had been practicing control—which was another beast in and of itself. Control of the light had meant a mastery of oneself. Obi-wan had only recently realized with an insight that he doubted he could have achieved any other way just how internalized the normal Force was. The Dark Side, however, was external. It required a complete knowledge of one's will and superiority over it to control. Of the Force, one asked. Of the Dark Side, one demanded. The light lent itself to commonalities and working together. The dark lent itself to hierarchies and levels, which was why, Obi-wan realized after several weeks of contemplation, the Sith strove to always be the best. When one controlled others, in their mind, it meant that no one had control over them. When no one had control over them, supposedly freedom had been obtained.

It was a ridiculous notion to the Former Jedi because by gaining that supposed freedom from others, they had enslaved themselves to the Dark Side; become a tool only useful to the darkness and at that point, they had no real will of their own. If he ever fell that far, he hoped that someone would have the will and ability to end his existence. Sadly, he feared it was only a matter of time.

He knew he could not put off enacting his plans for long. Not only did he not trust himself in the long run, but he also wanted to end the war as quickly as possible, which was why he found himself approaching the Seperatist planet of Serenno not two months after he and Anakin had escaped from Ventress, and a month and a half after he had woken in the facility at Haadrian. The long-term care facility had not been pleased when he had informed them that he would be checking out early. They had insisted that he needed rehabilitation for at least another month, even with the rapid healing rate he'd been advancing at (which had actually surprised him, but wasn't something he would question at the moment). At that point, he had simply told them that he would continue with his exercises, thanked them for their services, paid them a rather hefty tip and left. They really couldn't stop him, and he wouldn't have tolerated them trying.

By the time he'd found and bought a small ship that would serve his purposes, his plan had almost been complete and he'd only needed to oversee a few matters personally. Now everything he needed for implementation had been put in place and he himself would be the catalyst.

He kept a steady course as he waited for the planet security to contact him. He got surprisingly close to the planet before they did.

"Unidentified shuttle, this is Serreno Planet Security. Transmit your identification documents now or you will be shot. Over."

"Acknowledged, Planet Security," he replied calmly and sent the documents for the craft over. He wasn't really trying to hide anything and knew they would know the name and other personal identifications would be false.

Right on time, they responded. "The name of the owner of the shuttle has been proven to be false. You must provide your personal documentation immediately! This is your last warning!" Obi-wan couldn't tell if the voice was male or female or simply a droid. It sounded metallic and harsh over the static of the com. Somehow, that annoyed him.

"Planet Security, I read you. Those documents will be sent through momentarily. Please keep in mind that I request an audience with Count Dooku."

"Lord Dooku is not on planet at the moment," came the almost immediate reply. Obi-wan rolled his eyes. He knew that was a lie.

"I can wait," he responded. "Documentation transmitting."

He transferred his real identification documents as his entire plan revolved around blatantly pronouncing his presence to Dooku. He had debated long and hard between going in quietly and going in Anakin-style. Eventually he'd chosen the latter simply because it would be unexpected, and anything he could do to keep Dooku off balance would benefit him.

"Shuttle Mikoromin, do not deviate from your current course or you will be shot. All passengers will be taken into custody upon arrival. Over."

"Understood," Obi-wan replied. "You will not find any resistance. Over."

For a moment he amused himself with imagining the looks on the faces of the beings manning the station before he stood and made his final preparations. Yes, he had everything in place for a quick escape if necessary and he checked over his plans for the umpteenth time that hour before completely erasing them from the data pad he'd poured over for the last several days, removing the hard drive and crushing it in his hand to completely eradicate any trace.

Then he slowly and calmly piloted the shuttle down between the escort ships that had surrounded him long before they'd begun to enter into the atmosphere. Upon landing, he grabbed his bag, stepped to the door and opened it calmly. Then, slowly, he stepped forward, keeping his hands in sight. He wasn't disappointed. About three dozen droids met his gaze and he could see several security squads behind them, all with their blasters pointed towards him.

"Well," he commented, "this is quite the welcome." It was nice to see that he hadn't lost all of his humor. Actually he was grateful that it had begun to make a sort of comeback, even if his tastes had become darker and more morbid.

"General Obi-wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight and enemy to the Confederacy of Independent Systems, you are under arrest," one of the men with many decorations on his chest said calmly as he stepped through the robots towards the shuttle's ramp.

"I expected as much, commander," Obi-wan said with a forced smile. "After all, I did come here to turn myself in."

He'd been expecting that declaration to be met with shock and skepticism. Yet again, he wasn't disappointed.

xXx

He hadn't been in the holding cell for more than twenty minutes before the man he'd come to meet arrived. Obi-wan had been trying (yet again) to meditate with little success. The Dark Side didn't exactly promote calm meditation. Obi-wan didn't really know what else to do, though, so he simply sat there and tried to reach out to the light only to grab hold the darkness yet again. Sometimes he didn't know why he still tried, really.

"Well, well, well," a smooth voice came to him. He didn't open his eyes. "If it isn't Master Kenobi."

"Count Dooku," Obi-wan said in a falsely pleasant voice. He had worked very hard in the recent weeks to build a façade that seemed similar to his old self. "I see your reception hasn't changed much." He finally opened his eyes and indicated the cell around him.

"But you have," Dooku said, brushing his beard thoughtfully.

Obi-wan's wry expression disappeared and he allowed his eyes to fall a little. "So I have."

"I assume that is why you came to me. If you had truly been taken by force, I doubt I would have found this cell occupied."

At that, Obi-wan frowned and then smiled. "It is not the entire reason."

"Oh?"

"I came to negotiate," he said, closing his eyes again.

"You did?" Dooku sounded entirely too pleased. "Then perhaps you should abandon that pathetic attempt at meditation and follow me back to my residence where I can at least show you true manners."

Obi-wan allowed himself to slump a little before rising smoothly to his feet. "Very well," he said, striding over to the red-tinged ray shield.

"But sir," one of the silent guards standing nearby spoke.

Dooku rounded on him. "Do not speak if you wish to continue to live," he warned. The man must have been particularly intelligent because he nodded and backed away. Dooku didn't bother to walk over to the controls, instead choosing to manipulate them with the Force. It was strictly for show, Obi-wan realized. He'd found that using the Dark Side in subtle ways was rather difficult. The fact that Dooku could do so was a testament to his training and skill. Despite himself, Obi-wan was impressed.

"This way, Master Kenobi," Dooku said and began to walk away.

"Don't call me that," Obi-wan said, his voice quiet but firm. Dooku peered over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised in question. "I'm not even a knight anymore, and I am no one's master." Okay, perhaps that had sounded a bit too bitter.

"As you wish. What would you like for me to call you, then?"

"Just Obi-wan is fine," he responded, making sure to put a depressed note into his voice. It wasn't difficult.

The Count turned forward again, but Obi-wan still caught the small but triumphant smile on the man's face. "Very well, Obi-wan."

Okay, perhaps he should have come up with something else, because hearing Dooku say his name like that grated on his nerves, which did little for his already thinning patience.

"Allow me to show you around my home planet, Obi-wan," Count Dooku said as he pushed open the double doors to the dull, gray building that had held Obi-wan's containment cell. The planet outside could not have been more different from the facility. The system's star shone down brightly, warming the stone and durocrete beneath them. A pleasant breeze wafted through the buildings, bringing a fresh wave of crisp air to the city. In the distance, Obi-wan could see several mountains and the breeze held just the hint of the smell of foliage in it, suggesting that the forests the planet was known for weren't too far away.

Dooku raised his hand and called over what must be his personal speeder. It had a removable cover on it and looked to be at least three or four times as long as the normal speeder on the market these days. Yes, the Sith was definitely showing off.

The Count gestured for Obi-wan to enter first, which he did, finding himself in a large, luxurious seating area. He made sure to keep any reaction strictly under his control and chose a seat that would allow for him to see all exits and windows in the vehicle. A few moments later, Dooku climbed into the area as well and seated himself across from Obi-wan, pulling a bottle of what looked like some sort of high-class alcoholic beverage over with the Force. Obi-wan had a hard time holding back a cringe at his blatant use of the Dark Side. Here was someone who had embraced the darkness fully and was more than comfortable with it. Just being in his presence and realizing that suddenly made Obi-wan feel both self-conscious and awkward.

"Now, I know you probably already know, but how about a brief history of my planet?"

"If you wish," Obi-wan said with a graceful nod of his head. Truthfully, he would prefer silence, but doubted the other man would acquiesce.

"Would you like something to drink? This is Caamian wine. Very rare these days." And undoubtedly very pricy. It irked Obi-wan that the man seemed to take every opportunity to flaunt his status and wealth, but then Obi-wan had never expected any different. With an inward sigh, the younger man began to realize just how long this trip would be and mentally prepared himself for it.

"Thank you, no. I'm afraid that I am still recovering from a medical condition and the alcohol would only aggravate it."

"I see," the older man said with a sagely nod of his head. At that point he pulled out a pitcher of filtered water so clear Obi-wan almost couldn't see it and poured it into a glass before handing it over. Obi-wan took it but did not drink. Dooku didn't seem to mind.

"So let us start with this city. It isn't the capitol city, but it takes most of the off-world traffic as it allows the skies over the capitol to remain far clearer…"

A very long ride indeed.

xXx

Note: I've decided that I want some sort of insight at the beginning of every chapter, something from Obi-wan's pov. As such, I'm going to be putting those at the beggining of every chapter, so you may want to go back and read them. They're just a few paragraphs long each. .

Also, thanks to Kuroi Atropos and Daricio for all their help on this chapter! Couldn't have done it without them! :D


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